


Aloe You Vera Much

by mollus



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Drabble, Fluff, Humour, Insults, Language of Flowers, M/M, implied use of socks during sex, little bit of coffee shop in there too, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 04:09:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16032689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mollus/pseuds/mollus
Summary: Revenge is a dish best served... flowery?A tattoo shop AU/flower shop AU crossover drabble with added fluff and humour.





	Aloe You Vera Much

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not in the He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not verse. But hey, inspiration?

Bucky was trying, really trying, not to eavesdrop.

But they weren’t making it easy.

“ _Listen,_ babe, it’s like this.” Bucky could practically _hear_ the smirk in his voice. “I’m like oil, and you’re like… something that doesn’t mix with oil.”

Bucky winced.

“ _Water_?” his partner spat back at him incredulously.

“Yeah, yeah, like water. Exactly. I’m just not really feeling it.”

Bucky cringed. He had been in the coffee shop drawing for about a half an hour when the couple had come and in and settled behind him.

He’d been there for about 15 minutes more when oil guy had abruptly cut off water guy’s story about _trying to work past his mom dying_ to _break up with him._

Bucky was about ten inches away from Asshole, as he’d started calling him, with his back to him.  He was so wedged into the corner by chairs and tables that he couldn’t leave without drawing more attention than he wanted right now.

There were only three tables in the tiny coffee shop, and the only other people there were the two café workers, who were also silent.

So instead of quietly working on the designs for a wedding bouquet, he was being treated to what was quite possibly the worst breakup he’d ever heard.

“So, you’re done,” the second guy said. “After two years, living together, and adopting a cat, you’re just… done. And this was the only time and place you felt appropriate to bring these feelings up?”

Bucky chanced a look up and made eye contact with one of the café workers, who was furiously scrubbing a counter. Her wide-eyed stare conveyed the same abject look of horror he was sure was reflected on his own face.

“ _Yuuup_ ,” Asshole said. He slurped some of his coffee. Loudly. Then there were some noises, and the guy’s chair pushed into Bucky’s as he stood.

“Well, I think that’s about it,” Asshole said. “You should probably start packing up.”

The other guy was silent.

There were footsteps, then the jingle of the door as it opened and then closed.

There was absolute silence for a moment, and then a heavy sigh from behind Bucky.

He couldn’t take it. He turned around and faced the second guy.

He was slight and blond, but that wasn’t what stuck out to him the most.

No, that would be the way he was absolutely _covered_ in tattoos. They were layered over all of his visible skin, even curling into his hairline. One of them, a sprig of lavender delicately curled over the shell of his ear, particularly caught his eye.

Oh, and also the tears dripping from his downturned face into his hands. That also stood out.

Bucky couldn’t ignore that.

He went over to the guy’s chair, and awkwardly cleared his throat. The guy looked up out of teary blue eyes.

Bucky swallowed nervously.

“Listen,” he said quietly. “I honestly don’t mean to intrude, it’s none of my business, but… are you ok?’

The guy looked at him, opened his mouth to try to say something, and then let out a shaky sob. He clapped a hand over his mouth and dissolved into silent anguish.

Bucky carefully hesitantly sat down in the chair opposite the guy, looking to see if it was okay. He nodded, and Bucky eased back into the chair. He pulled a packet of tissues out of his backpack and handed them over.

The guy took them and blew his nose messily, tears still rolling down his cheeks.

Bucky turned to the counter, and saw Matilda had taken over for Jaycee.

“Could I get a cup of hot chocolate over here, Tilly?” he asked. She nodded and got to it.

Bucky sat quietly while she made the drink, letting the guy work himself through the worst of the sobs. When Tilly came over with the drink, he carefully slid it across the table.

Wiping his face, the guy took a big gulp and sighed shakily.

“Sorry,” he said, sounding stuffy. “I don’t usually sob in front of strangers.”

“Well,” Bucky replied, “I doubt what just happened is a regular occurence.”

The guy laughed. It was a dark, angry sound. “Yeah, I’ll say.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, rubbing at his tear stained cheeks. Bucky tried hard not to admire the fine bones of his face, or his long, delicate fingers.

Bucky stuck out a hand across the table. “Bucky,” he said.

The guy reached out and took it, flashing a blue and yellow swallow.

“Steve,” he replied.

_____________________________________________________

“So that’s- ” Steve gasped. He was having a hard time not choking on his laughter. “That’s when the sock fell off his dick!”

Bucky roared with laughter, slapping the table. Steve giggled so hard he was almost bent double.

“Amazing, amazing. What I _can’t_ believe is that you stayed with him for another… eight months,” Bucky said, doing  the math on his fingers.

Steve sighed. “Me neither. You want to know the worst part?”

“What’s that?”

“I still have to tattoo him.”

Bucky stared at him. “What? Why the hell would you do that?”

“Ugh,” Steve rolled his eyes. “Like I told you, I run a tattoo parlour. Thing is, I just opened up a month ago. And there’s a few tattoo parlours in this town, so there’s a lot to compete with. I promised him I would do his upper sleeve, took his deposit and everything. He’s a shithead, but the problem is, he’s a shithead with a pretty big social media presence – he does PR for a living. So…”

“So you can’t tell him to beat it, or he’ll blacklist you all over social media,” Bucky finished for Steve. “That’s the worst.”

“Absolutely,” Steve agreed. “He’s the worst. But, hey… at least once I’ve finished it, I never have to see him again.”

“Cheers to that,” Bucky said, clinking his coffee cup against the remains of Steve’s hot chocolate.

_______________________________________________________

_One Week Later_

Bucky was just fluffing his line of graduation bouquets in the back of the shop, starting to think about closing down for the evening, when the door of the shop banged open.

He straightened, about to call out that he was just in the back, when whoever it was beat him to it.

“Yeah, _hello_? Anybody here? I’m in a fucking hurry here!”

Bucky’s eyes widened. He wouldn’t forget that particular voice any time soon.

Straightening, Bucky made his way out to the front of the shop.

There was a man leaning against the front counter, one hand tapping impatiently on the glass. He wore a suit that looked like it cost more than Bucky’s yearly intake, and shitty little sunglasses perched on his nose. He glanced over at Bucky, a lecherous smile crawling across his face.

“Hey there,” Asshole practically purred.

Bucky’s skin crawled, but he was determined not to show it.

“What can I help you with?” he said warily.

Asshole took a long slow look up and down Bucky, then grinned.

“See, here’s the thing,” he said. “I’m working on my latest sleeve, right? And I have this _great_ idea – flowers.”

“…Ok?”

“What better than to grace _this_ beauty than nature’s beauty?” the guy continued. He flexed his arm, as if to demonstrate.

Bucky tried _very_ hard not to snort.

“But I was thinking – I don’t know shit about flowers. So hey, who better to talk to then someone that sells them?” Asshole continued, oblivious. Then he looked Bucky up and down again, from his top knot, to his apron, to his beat up chucks.  Bucky tried not to shudder as the man assessed him like a piece of meat.

“Speaking of beauties.” He looked at Bucky through his lashes.

Bucky swallowed back the bile rising in his throat.

He supposed it wouldn’t help to vomit on a customer, no matter how much he wanted to.

“So,” he said, “You want help picking flowers?”

“See, he gets it,” Asshole said cheerfully. “Beauty _and_ brains.” He winked at Bucky.

Bucky nodded, considering, and then turned around to face the fridge with the fresh blooms. He put a hand over his mouth, humming a little as if in thought.

Really, he was trying to hide the mischievous grin spreading across his face as an idea formed.

He cleared his throat, wiped the smile from his face, and turned back around to Asshole.

“ _Well_ ,” he said, reaching up to twirl a tendril of hair around his finger. “We’ll have to find some really… _special_ flowers for you then.”

Asshole smirked.

_______________________________________________________

_Two Weeks Later_

Bucky was at the coffee shop, busily trying to layer colour swatches together while organizing his latest orders, when he was distracted by the scraping of the chair opposite him as it was pulled out.

He blinked up to see Steve dropping into the seat. He crossed his arms and looked at Bucky, a considering expression on his face.

“You know, a very interesting thing happened to me,” he began.

“Oh?” Bucky said, caught off guard.

“Mm _hmm_ ,” Steve drawled. He looked up at the ceiling. “It started when I had my least favourite person drop into my parlour a few weeks ago, ready to get their next sleeve piece done.”

“And...?” Bucky prodded after a moment.

“Yup. Comes flying in, 15 minutes late for his appointment, saying he knew exactly what he wanted and wanted it just as _soon_ as possible, because he was seeing someone _important soon Steve, reeeal big_.”

“Interesting,” Bucky said. “And what, per se, did he want done?” He looked down at his papers, shuffling them around and trying his best to appear nonchalant.

Steve hummed, considering. “Well, some flowers, which I knew. But now he knew _exactly_ what kinds of flowers he wanted. Said they had some real _meaning_ to them, real _class._ ”

He paused. Bucky looked up, meeting Steve’s eye. Steve arched an eyebrow at him.

“Said he met someone at the local florist. Someone _real unique_. Young guy, really knew his flowers. Made sure to mention how attractive this guy was, made sure he mentioned his ‘slamming gorgeous bod and fantastic hair’,” Steve continued.

“Sounds like a real winner,” Bucky said innocently. He fiddled a little with his papers.

“I know, right?” Steve said. “Anyway, he said he gave him some _great_ advice on what flowers to get. And he’s _gotta_ get these exact ones, because the guy was _really_ sure they’d be great for him. Made sure I wrote them all down, made sure he emphasized how he had to have _all_ of them.”

He stared at Bucky.

“So I took the list: buttercups, yellow carnations, petunias, and _bird’s-foot trefoil_. And you know, I didn’t know off hand how to draw those. So I googled them, of course. And I did the tattoo, over two sessions. When I was finally done, I thought ‘huh, what a weird and specific combination of flowers’. I wonder if there’s something to that. Which then interestingly, led me to googling the meanings of said flowers.”

“Huh, I suppose it would,” Bucky replied thoughtfully. “Flowers can have such interesting meanings, you know.” He looked back at Steve.

They stared at each other for a good thirty seconds, before Bucky’s lip quivered.

And then they lost it. Pounding the table, howling, tears rolling down their faces laughter.

It was a solid five minutes before they calmed down enough to be able to talk. Tilly had walked over to the table, and then turned around and left when she realized they were both going to be insensible for the foreseeable future.

“Oh my _God_ ,” Steve said, finally managing to calm down and wipe his eyes. “This has been absolutely the best thing to happen to me all month. How did you know he wouldn’t google the flower meanings?”

“Please, Steve,” Bucky said. “I could tell in two seconds he didn’t have more than two brain cells to rub together. You should have just _seen_ him in my shop. ”

“Understatement,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “But seriously, thank you. That made me feel so much better.”

“Any time,” Bucky replied. “I mean, not that I hope you have clients like that, _ever again_.”

“Ha, me too!” Steve responded. “In any case…” he continued, looking suddenly  shy. “I was hoping I could… thank you. Uh, properly.”

Bucky tucked his hair over his shoulder. “Oh yeah?”

“I was thinking…” Steve said, and then blushed, a pretty pink that spread across his nose. “Maybe dinner?”

Bucky grinned outright. “I’d love to.”

**Author's Note:**

> Short and sweet this time folks! Written to try to convince myself to continue He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not. C'mon, plot bunnies. I know you're in there. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
